Reporter advised do not go.'
On whats already known.'
Known to rile; big Bob Katter
Yet he pushed it hell for leather.'
Pushed it right back to Cloncurry
Seventy years blurred..To Bob in school
It was not funny.' I'd say here i'm on the
Money.)
Frass the math..A help to agri.? A culture to far.' I
Ain't having any.. ( B S ) would be better than this '
Real hell for leather.' How can you plan to help
Organical food.? With insect dung..This is so rude.!
To offer false help, while subtracting physicallity.?
The good wholesome animals, this is real insanity
From white priveliged people it seems to me? klaus scoros
clinton
bush, charles windsor biden; welby. are they out of their trees.?
Do they push the world, out on a limb? As axe
To tree roots they madly swing, it seems all airy fairy
And cowless dairys.? Sacrifice and wanton felony?
Penury to live ' hard yoke tough yakka.' They'll get
Us all crook, while speiling some patter, acid rain
Are the tears they shed, they would run a world
With most people dead.? A fast hard slap is what
Is needed..' to get such a hysterical; ethos un-seated.'
[This is the poem that made me think ‘Hmmm… Sixgun Sid?’
Which led to a plethora of (at least one) ‘adventures’]
*
Cowboys and Red Indians they ride in any weather
Though one will get a soggy hat and one a soggy feather
And all that soggy headwear has been happening forever
Cos Cowboys and Red Indians are really not that clever
Cowboys and Red Indians they rarely get together
When they chase each other they ride horses hell for leather
And Sitting Fox seeks Sixgun Sid for he’s a scalp to sever
And Cowboys and Red Indians they rarely get called Trevor
Cowboys and Red Indians they simply wont endeavour
To shelter under canvas when its raining… No, not ever
Yet even when they're soaking wet they shrug and say “Whatever.”
For Cowboys and Red Indians will share a teepee never
She
Rode
Winning
Eleven
World championships.
Pushing hard with Scamper and Cruise,
Charmayne scampered each season on Hell-for-leather rides,
Very fast, it was barrel or bust and swirling dust, each triangle rodeo course.
1/2/2019
Writing Challenge January, 2019- Fibonacci - Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Dear Heart
Used the howmanysyllables.com syllable counter
You ain’t big, and you ain’t clever
When you rampage hell for leather
Through the woods, John Wayne you ain’t
With your gun that fires paint
Spouting stuff like ‘I’m the man’
Acting like you’re Action Man
Must have come as some surprise
Getting splatted twixt the eyes
Serves you right for being a prat
Acting like some spoilt brat
The thing about which my mind boggles
Is why you didn’t wear your goggles
Did it on purpose? Oh no we never
We’re sorry to hear that you’re under the weather
Your team-building mission, turned out to be clever
The laughing we’re doing...
...we’re doing together!
Through eyes of today they're seeing different surrounds
Hell for leather fanatics with no care for whom's grounds
Where religion decries that it's their credence to kill
With no care what so ever, it's no matter whom spills
Yet the big boys of this world can only attack each other
Yet it's their innocents whom have to continually suffer
Where will this all end, is this our self oblivion mapped
Or are we just an experiment, our time soon capped
M-ake it soft and tender,
A-s the breeze in the morning;
R-ough road in front of you
I-s hard to pass in the evening.
C-an you make it soft and tender?
A-h! you really can do it;
R-earrange the kind of life, free and far from anger's hit.
R-oll it soft and tender,
E-very move that you make;
M-ight be so very smooth
P-art that can easily break.
I-t can be done soft and tender,
L-oving the touch of the new-born;
L-et it be real gentle,
O-n July twelfth early morn.
A-ct soft and tender
B-efore the Lord Almighty;
L-earn to be a mild servant,
A-ccepting your divine duty.
N-ot careless in handling love,
E-ven if others are hell-for-leather;
D-evil-may-care you're not,
A-s you hold it soft and tender.
It starts as mizzle, a lethargic drizzle dribbling down the pane.
It’s dull and grey on this miserable day - I want to have some fun,
a sudden flash brings a big fat splash raindrop racing has begun.
The skies rock the starters block, they’re pelting down the pane,
tipping, slipping, constantly dripping, never ever still,
chasing, pacing, always racing each other to the sill,
lashing, dashing, splishing, splashing giving me such a thrill.
Their watery tails leave comet trails blazing across the pane.
They’re hell for leather in this inclement weather then out peeps the sun,
her soft warm glow makes the raindrops slow evaporating every one.
26/5/2013
The Haggis lives a solitary life
On mountainsides and braes
Foraging, for slugs and snails
Is how he spends his days
But come the rutting season
A change in him you’ll find
He’ll go out searching, high and low
For others of his kind
His plumage changes colour
From brown to scarlet red
A pair of tree like antlers
He sports upon his head
Then if a female he should sense
On hind legs, at full height
Lets out his raucous mating call
In the Scottish summer night
The pair perform their mating dance
In amongst the heather
Then when the dance is over
Go at it, hell for leather
In just six weeks the brood is born
And unlike any other
They suckle at their fathers breast
And not that of the mother
When the weaning’s over
They’ll go their separate ways
Foraging for slugs and snails
On the mountains and the braes
If you find yourself in Scotland
And you hear a raucous cry
Still your heart, be not afraid
Tis just the Haggii
© 22-01-2009